


Take Me As I Am

by teenybirdy



Category: The Devil Wears Prada (2006)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Bipolar Disorder, Don't copy to another site, F/F, Hopeful Ending, Mental Health Issues, Mirandy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-13
Updated: 2020-08-13
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:09:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25877956
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teenybirdy/pseuds/teenybirdy
Summary: Miranda grows concerned about Andy because her almost superhuman excellence is often followed by complete incompetence. When Andy quits in Paris, Miranda coaxes her out for coffee and Andy finally opens up about who she is.
Relationships: Miranda Priestly & Andrea Sachs, Miranda Priestly/Andrea Sachs, Mirandy - Relationship
Comments: 59
Kudos: 313





	Take Me As I Am

**Author's Note:**

> This idea was prompted by Nikki on the FB MirAndy page - using Ep3 of Modern Love as a basis for the fic. For her, the scene towards the end gave MirAndy vibes, and I have to agree. (If you haven't watched it, do so. It is amazingly heartbreaking, uplifting and poignant)

There was this thing, an important thing, that she struggled to tell anyone.

This thing had begun years before with Andy becoming increasingly irritable with her friends and family and suffering through episodes of anxiety and tension headaches. She could sleep for eighteen hours or not at all. She excelled in school, volunteered at multiple organisations, played in the school band, and helped her parents. She easily put these changes in her down to the long hours she spent studying and her busy social life. But then one day, as she was walking through the busy streets of downtown Cincinnati, she decided it would be fitting to step out in front of oncoming traffic and end her life.

She was sixteen and should have been able to see her whole life in front of her ready to be lived, but instead, she couldn't see her way out of the darkness. She was suddenly tired of always trying to put a brave face on things, to smile when she wanted to cry and scream.

Her parents ignored this cry for help but as her moods continued to fluctuate widely on a day-to-day basis, others grew concerned about her. She couldn't see she needed help, but her grandma did. Going against the express wishes of her parents, she encouraged Andy to seek help from a doctor and she was immediately referred to a psychiatrist.

With the help of anti-depressants, mood stabilisers, electroshock therapy, cognitive behavioural therapy, and the occasional hospital admission, she'd somehow managed to get through life so far, sometimes feeling trapped by her mind and body. She often felt she had no control over her life.

There were nights she lay in bed for hours, her mind creating images and words. She became engrossed in these moments, it was like reading a good novel that would make no sense to anyone else. An enthralling blur of words and pictures, snatches of poetry and music. The rest of the world often seemed to move too slowly in these moments. She started to write and decided against going into Law.

To her parents, it seems that her whole personality had changed; the happy child they knew was long gone and most of the time they believed the change in Andy, for the worst in their mind, was permanent. Her siblings simply didn't understand her. The only one that continued to offer support, until her death the year before, had been her grandma.

It hadn't been that way with Nate. She had met him randomly while in college. They had met in the vegetable aisle of her local supermarket of all places. He had claimed she had brightened his day after she had initiated a conversation over fresh peaches. They had agreed on a date.

Their first date was a disaster. She had hit a low and their night ended abruptly, with her offering him a nightcap or sex, depending on his preference, and with him declining after her clear disinterest in their date. She had tried to explain but had struggled to open up to him and eventually blamed her heavy schedule. He begrudgingly told her to call him if she felt like it. When she had called him, three days later, once again happy within herself, he seemed surprised and for some reason agreed to a second date. They continued to date, yet on her bad days and weeks, she continued to make excuses to him about her college workload then spent her good days catching up on the school work she'd missed, in her inability to drag her ass out of bed, and being the best she could be to maintain her grades. Her so-called commitment to her education impressed Nate, and her excuses kept him blissfully unaware of the constant battle that was her life

Upon moving to New York, Nate had initially seemed to be fairly forgiving of her mood swings; how there were days her mind turned faster than usual, nights she needed less sleep, how she could go from being sociable, talkative, fun and focused to distracted irritable, clumsy, hypersensitive to noise and anti-social. He told everyone her erratic behaviour was due to her being a creative genius but his appreciation of who she was, if he ever truly knew her, stopped when she started at Runway and he became less understanding as the world spiralled out of control around her.

Despite her mental health, Andy was determined to navigate life one day at a time, sometimes pushing her deeply tired body and befuddled brain through the days in which it was a struggle to even breathe, completing one impossible task at a time. But there were times, she found work became a necessary distraction from the symptoms of her depression. At these times she stared at herself in the mirror in the mornings, as she prepared for the day ahead, fighting the whirling anxiety and uncontrollable tears and begging herself to keep it together and praying for it to be a normal day.

She wasn't always tired and depressed though, there were times she was full of energy, enjoying the challenges placed before her and looking around for additional things to achieve. She learned to do the impossible in these moments and to make life easier for the often impossible-to-please Devil in Prada, Miranda Priestly, the woman she was secretly in love with.

Miranda's approval was everything to her and had brought her to Paris, where life as she knew it, had finally disintegrated. She walked away from Miranda, swiping furious tears from her face.

**~x~**

Miranda had frequently marvelled over her second assistant's ability to be able to achieve several impossible tasks at the same time, often before even being prompted. She understood the younger woman was special, it was obvious, but there was something about her she couldn't quite put her finger on.

There were days when Andrea's energy seemed limitless and she offered those warm, beaming smiles to the world, but then her sunny smile would suddenly disappear and she could sense the younger woman's increasing frustration or notice the growing lethargy surrounding her. These shifts seemed to happen within hours or even minutes, but mainly over a day or two.

Miranda lay against her pillows and considered the young woman she had first met. The young woman's appalling attire and unmanageable hair had her dismissing her entirely, but then she encountered that spark of something indefinable as she fired parting words at her. _"Okay, okay you're right. I don't fit in here. I am not skinny or glamorous and I don't know that much about fashion. But I am smart I learn fast and I will work very hard and..."_

Andrea was certainly like no assistant that had come before but on occasion, she had observed how her thoughts become disjointed and moments it seemed as if she couldn't formulate her thoughts into coherent speech patterns, causing her to stumble over the simplest words as if trying to pin them down in her mind. She tried to work out why this bothered her so much.

Perhaps it was the air of despair that had finally surrounded the beautiful young woman after the luncheon. Perhaps it was the fact she had left her on the steps of the Petit Palais the day before.

Making a snap decision, she launched herself from her bed and moved quickly towards the ensuite stripping herself out of her nightwear in preparation to shower. She had things to do, and first thing first, was to ensure Andrea was still in Paris and that she was safe.

Within twenty minutes she was stalking quickly down the hotel corridor to the room Andrea had called her own that week. A call down to the front desk had given her assurances the other woman had not yet checked out. Coming to a standstill at the door of the hotel room, she took a deep breath before knocking rapidly upon the wooden door. There was no response. "Andrea, I know you are in there. Open this door this instant." Miranda demanded. She heard shuffling and the door crept open slowly. She caught sight of the brunette silhouetted in the doorway, looking rather worse for wear. Her messy curls were tucked into an oversized sweater and she was barefooted and wearing leggings. From the light of the hallway, she saw her eyes were red-rimmed from crying and her nose was shiny. "Weren't you going to say goodbye?" She found herself asking.

Andrea took a step back. "Uh, of course. I ju...I..." She stuttered. "...I didn't want to make a big deal about it." Her voice was dull, almost lifeless. She shook her head. "I...it's fine, Miranda. I'll just...I'll be out of here soon and..."

Miranda felt her lips purse as she decided the next course of action. "Can we get coffee?" She asked hopefully.

"Miranda, I quit." Andrea shook her head, her confusion clouding her eyes. "I...I mean, I..."

"No, no. You misunderstand. I am not asking you to get me coffee, I am asking you to join me for coffee." Miranda explained as if it was the most normal thing in the world.

"Su...sure, I guess. Of course." Andrea hesitated.

"You will need shoes, Andrea." Miranda reminded her.

"Oh, you mean now?" Andrea queried. At her nod, she stepped back into the darkened room and Miranda followed.

**~x~**

She couldn't quite believe she was sat opposite Miranda Priestly, drinking coffee. It seemed surreal. The night before, upon her return to her silent hotel room after spending hours roaming the city, she had considered everything that had brought her to that moment.

She wondered if she had told Nate about her mental health issues, would he have stayed or run for the hills? Upon reflection, she understood they would not have been together.

She could see she was partly at fault for the end of her friendships and relationships. She didn't give people the chance to make up their minds about her, letting them see only her good side. She wondered if she could ever find that one person who could take her for who she was.

"So what will you do now?" Miranda's question broke into her thoughts.

"I have some savings, so I should be okay for a little while. I might take some time and do some travelling." Andy explained

"What about your fry cook?" Miranda asked curiously.

"Nate? Oh, we split up just before we flew out," Andy admitted. "He had a job interview in Boston and I expect he'll be gone by the time I return home."

"Well, that explains Christian. You get through them, don't you?" Miranda sighed. "I guess you're only young once."

Andy knew it was now or never. She realised Miranda would either take her next words one of two ways, she would accept them or would judge her. Her eyes stung with tears and she sniffed them back. "I'm bipolar." She confessed.

Miranda placed her mug down and sat back surprised. "Really?"

"Yes, I have been since I was sixteen," Andy stated.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Miranda demanded, her voice deceptively soft.

She chucked disbelievingly. "Who wants to knowingly hire someone with a mental illness?" Andy asked. "There's still so much, people like me, simply can't speak of without the fear of being stigmatised."

"So, why are you telling me this now?" Miranda asked.

"You're no longer work." She bit her lip and a tear slid down her cheek as the events of the day before hit her. "And you should know what you're dealing with if we're going to see each other outside of the office." Andy took a deep breath. "Which I would like, very much."

Miranda nodded her acceptance. "Go on." She urged.

"I have periods of intense highs and lows. The precise term for my disorder is ultra-rapid cycling bipolar." Andy sipped her coffee, keeping her eyes averted. "I can have highs that last for days and then suddenly I am hit with a low that can keep me down for a week, sometimes more."

"Tell me about these highs and lows." Miranda requested.

Andy thought about it for a moment, trying to find the words to explain. "Well, I'm hypomanic at times. I am talkative, so much so that no one else can get a word in and I've been told I talk too fast and switch topics so quickly that it's hard for anyone to keep up with me. I'm full of energy and fun to be around, making myself the life and soul of the party. Life excites me and I feel so confident. I see so much opportunity to do things and achieve the impossible. These are the times I'm at my most creative and also when I am more likely to take risks or be at my most destructive. These moments can only be relieved to some extent by physical activity such as pacing or sex. My sex drive just goes crazy." She watched as Miranda sat back in surprise, a faint blush rising over her cheeks. "I don't sleep much during these times, so I pace a lot, the other activity, not so much." She watched the editor move her finger over her lips contemplatively, processing her words. "My lows are often accompanied by paranoid delusions which bring more anxiety. " She smiled sadly. "There are times I think people are commenting adversely on my behaviour or appearance," Andy stated.

"Perhaps they are," Miranda suggested. "Especially if you revert to how you were before your makeover." She squeezed her eyes shut. "I'm sorry." She murmured apologetically. "That was uncalled for."

"It's okay." Andy husked, her voice rough. "That's part of this thing. I wear my most comfortable clothes because everything else feels like it is chaffing at my skin." She paused. "There are times I become very frightened and it makes me antisocial. I don't sleep well and have nightmares that seem to go on for days. I go from being decisive to not being interested in anything at all. I don't want to go anywhere, see anyone, or do anything. The world appears so bleak. I can't be near people, their proximity repels me, it's like I need my personal space to be able to breathe. I'm impossible to be around. I am an unreliable friend, you'd just ask my old ones to hear that. Most of my relationships break down eventually and making new friends is often too difficult to even contemplate. Most of the people who know of my illness have not been flexible or accomodating so I actively keep everyone at arm's length."

Miranda swore under her breath when her cell phone let out a shrill ring. She held up a finger as she looked at the screen. "I was meant to have a meeting ten minutes ago."

"Oh, you should go and...I...I'm sorry for keeping you," Andy mumbled, finally losing her battle with her tears.

"I'll just take this," Miranda advised gently."It's Nigel."

"Okay." Andy took a large swig of her coffee and swallowed it down over the lump that had formed in her throat.

"Hello, Nigel. No, tell Donatella I have to cancel. I have important matters to attend to. I'll see her in New York for lunch next week." Miranda disconnected the call. "Are you hungry?" She asked.

Andy shook her head. "No, food is not something I'm interested in right now."

"That's okay," Miranda reassured, gesturing to the waiter for more coffee. "Now where are you, right now, mood-wise?"

"I'm coming down off a low so things will be rough." Andy wiped her eyes. "You know, you're the first person I've ever willingly told this."

"And how does telling me this make you feel?" Miranda queried.

"It feels like a huge weight has been lifted off my chest." Andy sobbed. She was so relieved at how well Miranda had taken everything and how gentle and understanding she was being with her.

"You know, this explains so much and right now I feel infinitely more connected to you," Miranda told her, handing her a tissue from her purse. "Wipe your eyes, Darling." She urged gently.

Andy slid the tissue under her eyes, removing her tears and then blew her nose. "So, do you wanna get a drink some time? See a movie? Have dinner?" She sniffed as she spoke.

"All of the above." Miranda smiled softly, placing a hand on top of hers. "We'll start with dinner at the townhouse after our arrival home tomorrow." She paused. "No, not dinner. You will return to the townhouse with me and stay until you feel better able to take care of your needs. You may stay as long as you wish."

"Thank you," Andy whispered gratefully. "Oh God, thank you."

"No, darling. Thank you, for your trust." Miranda insisted. "It is not something I will break, or take for granted."

**~x~**

Upon their arrival from the townhouse, Miranda had led a fidgeting Andrea to the guest suite opposite her own and rummaging in the younger woman's case had found a pair of comfortable sleep pants and a t-shirt for her to wear. She then left her to shower and settle, hopefully into sleep, before the twins arrived home.

Their flight from Paris had been long and somewhat tense. Upon entering the aircraft, she had spotted Nigel's startled look as she'd guided the younger woman into the empty seat beside her and helped her with the seatbelt.

She had settled down next to Andrea and pulled out her notes on the shows that week but her concentration broke as the brunette tugged her fingers and bounced her legs. Placing a warm hand on the thigh, the movement of her legs stalled, but she continued to tug at her fingers. Deciding to forgo her never-ending work, she put it away and spoke quietly. "Why on Earth journalism, Andrea?"

They had talked for hours until she had yawned and her eyes had fluttered closed. Her hand still sat firmly in its place on Andrea's thigh.

And now, she still couldn't concentrate on her work as her mind processed all Andrea had shared with her over the last day. She wanted to know more but didn't wish to push the younger woman into divulging things she wasn't comfortable with. Opening up Safari, she clicked into the search bar and typed just two words.

Bipolar Disorder.

She clicked individual links and a continuous array of information whirled in front of her eyes as she scanned articles outlining the disorder. The four types, the varying cycles and what they meant, the symptoms and the treatments available. She inhaled the multitude of information provided, seeing much of what Andrea had told her life with bipolar was like in much of what she was reading.

She realised Andrea was quite probably a high functioning bipolar since she made attempts to manage her symptoms, by simply hiding her condition so for the most she seemed, for want of a better word, normal.

And yet, it was clear she was simply surviving the rollercoaster of daily battles that came from her shifting moods. By holding a steady job and maintaining a relationship in which she did not feel comfortable enough to share her deepest self, she was using up an excessive amount of energy, leaving her unable to handle the emotional turmoil. This had, over time, pushed her to the brink and culminated in her rapid disappearance from her side.

She had always assumed Andrea's outward appearance of calm applied internally too, but she now knew better. It was certainly true you couldn't judge a book by its cover, Andrea was proof of that more than anyone she had ever encountered.

Knowing Andrea now, on a deeper level than she had ever considered possible, Miranda wanted desperately to show Andrea she was not alone, nor was she less of a person because of this thing, this chemical imbalance that held her life in its grip. Being bipolar did not make her unlovable, in fact, she adored how creative, passionate and ambitious Andrea was.

There were things she could do to assist the younger woman now. She could offer her the unconditional support lacking in other areas of her life. She could become Andrea's friend and offer her the same trust she had been given. It was all she could hope for. The wish any more would be folly on her part.

Hearing the front door open and slam closed and the heavy footfall of her twin daughters, Miranda stood and moved towards the door of her study. She stopped in the doorway at the sight of the twins staring up the stairs in surprise.

Taking three more steps, bringing her close to her daughters, Miranda looked up and saw the bare feet and baggy flannel pyjamas covering long legs. Her eyes rose and she saw Andrea tugging her fingers nervously. She understood why her daughters were now acting so strangely, it was rare for them to have guests and her assistant, or ex-assistant as she was now, would be the last person they expected to see upon their return. "Bobbsey's." She spoke softly, tearing their focus off the other woman. They glanced over their shoulders at her momentarily before their eyes skirted back towards the top of the stairs. She placed her hands on each of their shoulders. "I have invited Andrea to stay with us for a little while."

**~x~**

Andy had been stunned when Miranda told Caroline and Cassidy she was staying with them. At the moment she had seen the twins at the bottom of the stairs, she'd been sure the editor would revoke her invitation. Instead, she had led the twins in the den and cuddled up with them on the large sofa, leaving her to hover nervously on one of the armchairs with Patricia at her feet.

Why was she still here? She had no idea really. Possibly luck. If she continued to be lucky she might get a few days to rest and return to normal and then real life would creep in and she'd return to her empty apartment and try to do the right thing, find herself a job and get on with her life as best she could.

Lost in thought, she missed the opening of the conversation Miranda initiated with the twins, but then her words struck her. "Andrea was there for me when I received the news about the divorce."

"That still doesn't explain why _she's_ here," Caroline muttered darkly.

Andy told herself it was only a matter of time until Miranda decided that dealing with her damaged psyche was too much and her presence was detrimental to her life and to that of her precious daughters. She had nothing to offer the Priestly's. She had quit her job and her social life was non-existent thanks to giving her all to her job over the past year. There was no reason for her to stay.

"Andrea is here at my invitation, Caroline." Andy caught the gentle warning in Miranda's words. "She offered me kindness when I needed it, and I feel rather grateful to her for the empathy she displayed. So I am returning the favour and repaying that kindness."

"She makes you want to be better," Cassidy declared.

"Yes, she does, Cassidy." Miranda looked at her youngest daughter and smiled.

"You're bringing your work home." Caroline hissed, pulling back. "This wouldn't have happened if Stephen hadn't left."

"Andrea is no longer working for Runway," Miranda stated. "This is not work-related."

Andy stood up. "I should go. This isn't..."

"No." Miranda interrupted, rushing to her feet. "You are staying."

"My presence isn't wanted here," Andy whispered, tears threatening once more.

"You can't leave," Miranda stated. "You are in no fit state to go back to that tiny little apartment you call home. As long as you are here, I can ensure you have the support you need."

"Why is that so important to you?" Andy cried out in frustration.

"Are you here because you're sad?" Cassidy asked, cutting through the growing tension. "Dad said you seemed sad when he met you that one time."

"Cassidy, I...uh...I..." Andy didn't know what to say.

Caroline frowned. "You don't usually call us by our full name, why start now mom is here?"

"Caroline, I...your mom doesn't like nicknames." Andy found herself saying. "And how would your dad know I was sad, Cassidy?"

"James is a rather sought after psychiatrist." Miranda sat down again and pinched the bridge of her nose. "I believe it may be safe to offer Cassidy and Caroline the same trust you showed me yesterday. They have been raised to not judge."

Andy sighed. It had been hard enough to tell Miranda, but perhaps it would get easier the more she opened up about it. Maybe being honest and trusting with people would be cathartic. "I've been ill." She told the twins.

Cassidy clapped her hand over her mouth in horror. "Are you going to die?" She whispered.

"No, honey. I don't mean that kind of ill." Andy explained. "I'm not sick, as such, but there are times I have to see special doctors, like your dad." She swallowed nervously. "I have a condition called bipolar disorder." Relief washed through her as the admission. Perhaps this wasn't so bad after all. Each admission seemed more healing than the one before.

"Like the lady who played Princess Leia in Star Wars?" Caroline asked breathlessly. At Andy's widening eyes, she grinned. "Mom spent the weekend with us before Paris watching the original Star Wars."

Andy chuckled lightly. She looked across at Miranda. "Good choice, mom." She turned to Caroline, "Yes, Carrie Fisher is also bipolar."

"Do you take medicine for it?" Cassidy asked.

"I've tried so many different meds, you'd be here all night if I tried to list them," Andy told her. "But it's not easy to to find the right balance and sometimes my brain tells me my medicine isn't needed and I am compelled to listen, rather than allowing me to see how bad things are when I don't take them."

The twins glanced at each other and Cassidy shrugged. Andy found herself growing a little anxious at the obvious silent communication.

Would it be now they decided they didn't want her crazy ass in their home?

Would it be now they demanded Miranda throw her out?

"What's it like?" Caroline asked.

Andy considered ways of explaining her bipolar in an age-appropriate way. She frowned until something she'd read came to mind. "Carrie Fisher once told a little boy that it's like running a hundred miles an hour but standing still at the same time." She sat back. "I'm just like anyone else. There are just times I'm a little more excitable and others I'm sadder."

"Oh." Caroline shrugged and turned to her mom. "What's for dinner. I'm starving."

Clearly, the discussion was over.

**~x~**

Having called for pizza and had it delivered, Miranda wasn't overly surprised when Andrea ate very little, although it left her rather concerned. She had noticed the weight loss, which had seen the younger woman dropping from a solid size six to a four. It wasn't that she didn't look good, she did and that was often proven by her inability to tear her eyes away from Andrea each morning as she looked over her chosen outfit for the day, but for her to lose those delicious womanly curves and become more like the models on the pages of her magazine seemed intolerable.

She decided she would continue to worry should that arise. Right now, she was happy to be home and with her children and Andrea, who remained seated as they ate and was not truly present in the moment with them. As the time passed slowly, with her girls chattering ten to a dozen about their week, it became increasingly obvious Andrea's mind had taken her elsewhere.

The fact she had agreed to stay with them and was allowing her to offer her the security of a place to fall apart until she felt more like herself offered Miranda a little ray of hope. If Andrea was willing to accept help there must be something telling her she could be trusted.

After dinner was finished and the agreement given to watch a movie, she led everyone back into the den once again. Cassidy and Caroline asked if they could choose the movie and she agreed. She wasn't surprised when the opening credits of Harry Potter and the Philosophers Stone started rolling on the large screen.

With the twins settling in their usual spots, sprawling comfortably on overly large beanbags, she found herself watching the younger woman as she stared off into space. Andrea was so still and seemed so calm, and yet she could feel the inner turmoil rolling through her.

Miranda hoped she could find a way to show the young woman that her presence in her world was a necessity.

When Cassidy shifted, she was shaken from her musings and she watched as her daughter glanced at the other woman, a frown knitting her eyebrows together. When Cassidy rose and took the few steps to stand beside Andrea's chair, it took the brunette a few moments to register the fact.

Her smile was small, but her eyes warmed subtlety. "What's up, Cass?" Andrea asked.

Cassidy threw herself at Andrea, her arms wrapping around her neck as she buried her face against her shoulder. She caught the muffled words. "You looked like you needed a hug."

Rather than pushing Cassidy away, Andrea picked her up and pulling her over the arm of the chair, sat her on her lap She returned the embrace, holding onto her tightly. "Thank you, honey." She whispered the words into Cassidy's hair.

Miranda wondered how bringing Andrea I further into her life would work. She was already captivated by her strength of character and beauty, but seeing her be so vulnerable with her daughter made her heart soar and ache in equal measures.

She understood fully why her marriages hadn't held together and the reasons made her continually anxious about the effects her inability to hold onto her relationships was potentially having on her children.

Miranda knew she was self-contained, which came across as her being cold and indifferent, she was also uncompromising and mercurial, both of which seemingly made her a bitch. But she could love with her whole heart, which was shown in her absolute, unconditional adoration of her beautiful babies. It was simply a shame the men in her life couldn't bring that out in her too.

Andrea had spoken about the fact her family believed if she just did something differently she would be restored magically to full health. Miranda herself was well versed in tolerating the opinions of others. Because of who she was, all sorts of people believed she should be nicer or more approachable and yet she would not get the results she achieved monthly if she was any different.

With Andrea, the advice given was to take multivitamins, have regular massages, take holidays, return to Ohio and even to pray for better mental health.

It made her furious.

She now knew, even the best psychiatric care in the world, that Andrea may not respond to treatment or gain some level of normalcy. But if Andrea wished, she would refer her to James and pay his exorbitant fees on her behalf.

Miranda knew, without a shadow of a doubt, if there was some way of helping the brunette she would do so, after all, as Carrie Fisher once said, living with manic depression takes a tremendous amount of balls, and she certainly appreciated that in a person and she wanted that kind of person in her life.

**~x~**

Andy lay in bed, wide awake and wishing time would move quicker. She was tired yet her brain wouldn't be still, making it so she was living her life with its extreme highs and lows. The physical and mental strain was a test of her endurance.

She had spent the better part of the evening asking herself how the Priestly could ever adjust to having her in their lives. She would fail them all eventually, she knew it. She wouldn't be able to always be there for them as she so desperately wished she could.

Talking to herself sternly, she spoke aloud.

"I can rely on others for help when I'm feeling exposed and vulnerable. I can trust people not to leave me. I can...I want to."

She continued to tell herself these things until the door clicked open and she spotted Miranda's silhouette in the partly open doorway. The door swung open further before closing softly and she caught the padding of feet on the floor coming towards her in the darkness.

Shrinking further into the mattress and curling into a fetal position, she watched warily as Miranda came to a standstill beside the bed.

"If this is going to be a sleepless night for us both, we may as well be together." Miranda tugged at the blanket and she rolled slightly to release it. The older woman slipped into bed beside her and settled on her side facing her. "I was thinking of everything you have told me," Miranda admitted. "And I want to ask something of you." She paused. "I need you to try and live your life fully in your periods of normality and hypomania. Fight this darkness, darling."

"Why?" Andy found herself curious by the request. "I asked earlier but didn't get an answer. Why is me being here so important to you?"

Perhaps it was the darkness removing the usual barriers between them and Andy was surprised when Miranda responded. "Because despite every measure I put into place to keep you at arm's length, you became important to me. You are an intrinsic part of my life now and I cannot imagine you not being part of it." Miranda's voice remained soft as she continued to whisper in the darkness. "There are moments in life, where no matter how dejected and disillusioned you may feel, there's one person that brightens your day, just by being there with a beautiful smile. You don't just let people like that pass you by. It would be foolish to do so."

Andy had never heard anything as beautiful and felt a little lighter as something, that felt a little like hope, flowed through her. "Oh God, I love you." She muttered.

"Pardon?" Miranda challenged.

"I love the way you talk. How honest you are. I love it." Andy amended swiftly.

Miranda hummed and scooted a little closer and Andy sighed and closed her eyes, allowing herself a small measure of comfort from the warmth radiating from the woman beside her. Life was often hard, but there were small moments, like this one, that made every bit of hardship she faced, just a little more worthwhile. The clouds surrounding her now would pass, and as long as that happened she would deal with whatever life thew at her. "Miranda?" She questioned sleepily. "Can I ask you to do something for me?"

"Anything," Miranda promised.

Andy yawned. "I need you to promise to take me as I am," Andy explained. "That means accepting me on the days where it takes me what seems like an eternity to get out of bed, shower and dress, as well as those where I wake up feeling I can conquer the world."

"I promise. You will never receive any judgement from me." Miranda assured her. "I will take you as you are, with all your highs and lows, successes and failures," Miranda pledged her, pushing a curl of hair from her forehead. Andy breathed deeply, her eyes still closed, having finally lost her battle with sleep. She missed the small, soft smile as Miranda settled lower, snuggling under the comforter. "And I will love you with everything I have, always." She whispered quietly.

**Fin**

**Author's Note:**

> Although I am often honest about my battle with anxiety and depression, I am not bipolar. However, I know people who suffer through this illness - some are honest about it, some prefer not to talk about it. The thing is with mental illness, you can't easily tell someone is suffering just by looking at them. It is not always possible to see beyond whatever outward facade they portray to the world. Many sufferers remain silent due to stigma or fear of judgement, so if someone trusts you enough to be open about something so deeply personal, even if you don't understand, be kind, please.


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